Every now and then I like to sit down and take a look at a movie I've seen a number of times but maybe haven't watched in awhile. Recently, I had a jones to watch Francis Ford Coppola's sad 1974 thriller "The Conversation." I first saw it in college, then bought it on DVD several years later, and I have revisited it on occasion. But during my most recent viewing it dawned on me that I might be watching the best film of the entire Me Decade.
Considering the competition, you might think I'm crazy. After all, as good and classic as "The Conversation" is considered, the competition was fierce. The 1970s produced one of the greatest collections of Hollywood genius in movie history. From "Taxi Driver" to "Nashville" to Coppola's own "Godfather" films, a rundown of 70s releases plays like a movie lover's dream. It seems like every month -- possibly every week -- some new gem was premiering at the local movie house. Moviegoers had no shortage of riches awaiting them when they plunked down their cash.
"The Conversation" opened in April 1974. Coppola -- who by this point had 2 Oscars under his belt -- squeezed it in before making "The Godfather Part II," which opened some eight months later. He had written the screenplay for "The Conversation" in the late 1960s, but didn't have the clout to get it made until after the massive critical and commercial success of "The Godfather" in 1972. In the long run, it worked out for the best that he was forced to wait to make "The Conversation" because the film's themes of privacy and loneliness perfectly matched the zeitgeist of the Watergate era -- themes that still hold plenty of relevance nearly 40 years later.
The movie's protagonist is Harry Caul (Gene Hackman, Superman), a lonely, paranoid, guilt-ridden surveillance expert who fled to San Francisco after a job in New York led to the deaths of three people, including a child. Much of the film follows Harry's effort to tease out the meaning of conversation he recorded of a young couple apparently talking about their secret affair. Caul becomes convinced the couple will be murdered for their transgression. But despite his best efforts to get involved (and despite his near-constant protestations that he won't), Harry finds himself powerless at the hands of people far more ruthless than he.
I don't want to get too much into the detail of the story; for anyone who hasn't seen the film, the revelations and twists should be experienced firsthand. Suffice it to say that Coppola's screenplay is one of the reasons I think "The Conversation" is the best film of the 1970s. The writing is airtight; each scene is perfectly constructed to give us just as much information as we need to know. (Even a nightmare sequence giving us some backstory on Harry feels organic to the film and not the hoary cliche it might have been in other hands.)
Coppola also manages a neat balancing act; we never know any more than Harry Caul, but we also get enough information that we can sort of figure things out a little faster. (It could also be that Harry, while no dummy, is certainly presented as a little slow on the uptake.) I know that Robert Towne's script for "Chinatown" (which, ironically, beat "The Conversation" for the Best Screenplay Oscar) is widely considered the greatest ever written. But while I love "Chinatown," its writing script tends to call attention to itself. That's not the case with "The Converation" which has an elegance and leanness that is unmatched.
Another reason for "Best of the 70s" honors is that the movie contains the best peformance of the decade in Gene Hackman's portrayal of Harry Caul. Three years removed from his ferocious, Oscar-winning turn as New York cop Popeye Doyle in "The French Connection," Hackman did a complete 180 in a role that couldn't be more different. Where Doyle was loud, outrageous, and driven, Harry Caul is guarded, quiet, and wracked with guilt. Even when he's around the few friends he has, Harry only gets excited when talking about his most recent job and how brilliant it was. His work is his life, and the irony is that his work is also driving him mad. Hackman plays
things close to the vest, but also shows a vulnerability that makes us feel his pain. (As great as his work is, it wasn't even nominated for an Oscar. More proof the Academy values flamboyance above all else.)
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the film's groundbreaking editing and sound work by the great Walter Murch. Much of the power of "The Conversation" comes from the recording that haunts Harry Caul. As he listens to it over and over, and gets more obsessed, we start to hear things differently -- just as he does. Murch's sound design not only allows us to learn a bit about Harry's trade (a masterful sequence early on shows Harry mixing the recording from one source to another) but also get inside Harry's head. We know exactly why he is obsessing over this piece of tape, and we understand why it would push him over the edge.
I fully anticipate arguments ensuing about my naming "The Conversation" the best film of the 1970s, and that's fair. To be sure, there are other movies from that era that I've seen more times, including other contenders for "best of" honors like "Network" and "Apocalyspe Now." But maybe it's a credit to the film's power that I haven't seen it as many times. As beautiful as it is, "The Conversation" it is one of the most painful movies ever made. For Coppola, Hackman, and Murch to give audiences such an nakedly emotional experience, even all these years later -- that is a major accomplishment.
So UNDERRATED, it's embarrassing! The BEST...? Definitely, one of...!
Posted by: Martin Stett | 03/03/2012 at 05:46 PM